


heaven sent, hell destroying and wonderfully human

by theshipstorulethemallwrites



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: 5 year seperation, Cunnilingus, Drabble Collection, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, I Love You, Implied Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-11
Updated: 2017-03-15
Packaged: 2018-10-02 11:43:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10217276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theshipstorulethemallwrites/pseuds/theshipstorulethemallwrites
Summary: A series of Bellamy and Clarke's firsts(Bellamy can't bury his feelings anymore)(Clarke can't let another moment pass before she says it)(Clarke is frustrated and Bellamy helps her relieve it)





	1. Knocking on Heaven's Door

He’s leaving because he’s a martyr, because this is the type of sacrifice he has to make. He has to go up there. She’s got nightblood running through her veins and everything in him is screaming at him to stay. They promised they’d live for each other, a wedding vow if Bellamy has ever read one and he wants to listen to his heart. The half that still beats in his chest is telling him to hold the broken blonde who is staring at him like he has just plunged a knife into her heart, the heart that holds the other half of his. And his soul that is slowly knitting itself back together is telling him that he doesn’t deserve her just yet. His soul, his need for redemption makes the choice for him. 

Clarke, as always, since the very beginning, sees right through him and walks over where he is putting on one of the jumpsuits that Raven is making them all wear. 

“Hey.”

He smiles at her, he knows that minute he speaks every single thing that is forcing him to go on the ship will evaporate. 

“Bellamy.” She draws out his name and he wants to hear her say it like that in so many different ways, until he’s able to memorize what she wants from just the way she says his name. This cadence is one he is familiar with. She’s trying to hide her fear by acting annoyed. 

“Yes?” 

He raises an eyebrow at her, a smirk settling on his face as she looks up at him. She’s shaking a little, and god, neither of them want this. Not when three days ago he’d finally,  _ finally _ , kissed her. And she’d kissed him back, and he can still feel the brush of her finger against his cheek, the flutter in her eyes as he pulled away, the way she breathed his name like some of sort of prayer. He wants more of that, more of her, more of them. But he isn’t good enough to touch her yet because every time she grasps his hands, he feels profane. He needs this but he needs her too, it’s a destructive push and pull. She makes him feel like he doesn’t need redemption but he can’t have her absolving him of his sins, that’s no way that he can let her burden herself with any more of his demons. 

“We can get through this.”

And wow the rush of deja vu that flows through him, he said those words before she left him standing at the gates of Arkadia. He looks at her slightly shocked but her furrowed brow in return says that she doesn’t realize that she quoted him. 

“No.” He replies, stepping forward closer to her. She shakes her head and he reaches out to catch her hand in his, tracing the bruised skin and the bitten nails, feeling the touch of the girl that owns him for what will be the last time in awhile. 

“Bellamy, I know that you need forgiveness, but let me be here while you get it, let me be the one to give it to you.”

Clarke sounds like she’s crying and Bellamy reaches up to wipe the one single tear that is falling down her cheek. He shakes his head, breathing deeply and she lets out a choked gasp as he turns to move away. She keeps holding his hand however and he doesn’t, can’t, let go first. So he turns back and whispers, voice choked like he’s barely holding in the urge to cry.

“Take care of them for me.”

“Bellamy.” she responds, moving the hand that has been clenched in a fist to trace his cheek. She sounds like she’s begging him and his resolve nearly breaks. In the moment, she sees his hesitation and steps even closer. At this point they are close enough that he can feel the breath coming out from her lips and if he were able to block out the bustle of everyone moving and packing around them he knows he could hear her heart beating in time with his. 

“I have to try.” He mutters, eyes dropping to her lips before he slowly, painfully steps back. Far enough that he’s not tempted to just say  _ fuck it _ and kiss her and say goodbye to any sort of penance that doesn’t come from her. But still close, close enough that he can see her eyes fill with tears, close enough that he sees her lips open and close. He presses a kiss to her cheek, holding her in his arms for one second and the way she feels against him, warm and whole and safe, makes it worth it. 

“I..” He starts, god he needs her to know that she is his dream, she is the one that guides him home. But she shakes her head, tears starting fall as her hand remains clutching his shoulder. There’s nowhere to hide anymore, no demon that the other hasn’t seen but he needs her to know that he loves her, that loving her, that being in love with her, doesn’t accurate describe the depth of his feelings, his wants, his needs.

“You’re coming back, Bellamy.” She whispers and he knows what she means. She means that his “I love you” can’t also mean “goodbye”. So instead of either of those he says the words of their people, a promise in it’s alterteration.

“We will meet again.” He breaths out, stepping away from her before he can break anymore. As he turns around he hears her sob. Abby runs to catch her daughter as she falls but she stands upright before her mother can reach her. He’s so attuned to her at this point that even though he’s nearly at the rocket, he can still hear her say, “We will meet again.”

And the promise, that promise, that when he comes back they’ll say those three words and it will only mean those three little words. Their “I love you’s” will only mean “I love you”. But even as he gets inside the rocket, and looks down at Clarke, sees her looking at him, he can’t keep the words buried in his chest. He means them so deeply and he needs to be looking at her as he says them even if she can’t say them back. Bellamy walks to the window and looks down at her, trying to memorize what she looks like. Five years is a long time and he doesn’t want to forget anything. He waves at her and she lifts her hand in response. The view of her blurs as he lets the tears fall, he reaches up to wipe the tears away and when he finally sees her in focus again, she has her back to him. 

“I love you.” He whispers. The words are torn from his throat and he can’t stop them from spilling from his mouth. He does love her, he does need her but he still turns around, strapping in and ready to go find his redemption, ready to be ready for her. 


	2. Anchor to Hold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 5 years later, only 8 words need to be said
> 
> (Clarke says I love you)

Clarke sits aching and lonely as she reflects on the fact that she’s said “I love you” to Bellamy in so many different ways, for so many different reasons. The first she’d felt the stirrings of something, threatening to consume her whole was when she sent him in Mount Weather, alone. When she abandoned him but she’d just lost Finn, killed him really and she wasn’t ready to face that. So she buried it, she buried her love for him, the mind-blowing need to keep him safe. But it didn’t stop her from completely falling apart when Roan had a sword to his throat, the first time that she remembers really and truly losing her cool on the ground. Anyone else, anyone, and she would stalled for a few seconds but seeing Bellamy, seeing the man who rushed headlong into danger to get her back, to bring her home, seeing someone threaten to kill him, that was enough for her. All it did was remind her of the moments before she sent Bellamy into Mount Weather, her fear for him, the fact that she can’t lose him. And yet it was when he wrote her name down on the list of who gets to survive and who doesn’t, that she knew that she was in love with him. That moment when he’d made a vow more devout than the movies she had watched with Wells when she was kid, dreaming of a prince. That list, those memories of him writing her name in swooping scrawl, a name that she has traced so many times while left alone in this world of fire and ruin, because it’s a promise that he’ll come back. He always does, he always comes back to  _ her _ .

And ever since that day over five years ago she’s wanted to burst out and tell him that he is hers, that she’s his and that she’s in love with him. But she refused to let him tell her, she knows that that was what he was trying to say as they said goodbye all those years ago. The memory of his hands, his lips, his words, they kept her well, more or less sane. The memory isn’t enough anymore, it’s not something that is able to sate her or make her smile because she just  _ fucking _ misses him. Roan walks over, over the years, they’ve gotten close. They understand each other in a way that no else does because no one else got left behind by someone they loved, someone who is their better half. 

“We’ll see them soon, Griffin.” 

Clarke sniffles, looking up at the Ice King who is resting a hand on her shoulder. 

“You know it’s been months since I’ve heard his voice.”

It’s not a question, it’s just a statement. She knows Bellamy better than she knows herself in some ways and she knows that her mom hasn’t been telling her things, no one has. His name doesn’t come up in conversations that she has with people and some part of her understands why. She knows that if they had newspapers that headlines would never refer to one without the other. She chuckles softly imagining a headline reading, “Blake, Griffin: Soulmates of the Ground”. 

She knows that when she sees him again, gets to hold him in her arms, she’ll be able to feel his ribs. That’s something she’s almost as sure of as she is in her love for him, that he’s an idiot who refuses to believe that other people care about him. She breathes a sigh of relief as she remembers that she’ll see him in what feels like hours but is more like minutes. Raven’s voice had blared through the shelter as she’d announced from space that they were beginning their descent. She can finally, after using her fingers, using the memory of his touch, have him her bed. Sue her, it’s been over five years since she’s got laid by something other than herself. She wants a night with the man she loves, a night after the war and heartache when she can finally lose herself in him. 

They hear a loud sound reverberate, it shakes her out of her thoughts and then she realizes it’s coming from outside. 

_ Bellamy _ . 

He’s here, he’s back and she runs outside, pushing the door open and taking a deep breath of real air for the first time in years. Even taking in the earth around her is secondary as the rocket crashes down. Roan comes behind her and she can hear his breathing, coming out in harsh pants, she reaches out to grab his hand. Giving it a squeeze, she knows that he has the same look on his face as she does, a mixture of disbelief, hope and desperation. The door opens and Bellamy walks out.

Her entire world narrows down to him, she takes in his messy hair, his beautiful brown eyes, the strength in his shoulders and she runs, crashing into him. She feels like a supernova, every atom in her soul is exploding and reforming as his hand come up to clutch her hair.

“Clarke.” He breaths out, her name sounds like every prayer she’s ever said in the silence of her mind when she begged any and all of the gods to let him come home to her. She lets her head fall into the crook of his neck and she knows that if she let her senses expand even slightly beyond him she’d hear the sounds of rejoicing. But he’s all she sees, he’s surrounding her and she’s willingly drowning in him.

They pull back and she just looks at him, the smile on his face, the shrunkenness of his cheek, the lines of his jaw. The face that she had drawn enough times that there existed two notebooks shoved in the corner of her room, full of him. Looking at him she realizes that she’s been drawing him all wrong, his hair was too neat, his ears were too big and it was just, oh she was so glad he was finally here.

He swallows, his adam's apple bobbing and all Clarke wants to do is bite and suck and mark him as hers. Later, that will come later. First she needs to tell..

“Hi.” He whispers, pressing a kiss to her forehead, and that’s another thing she forgot, how much taller he is. 

“Hi.” She responds, the grin spreading across her features instinctively makes her mouth hurt, it’s been awhile since she smiled the way she is now. 

“I..” He starts and she shakes her head, she wants to be the one to say it first so she just pulls him for a kiss, their first kiss in five years, their first kiss without a war breathing down their necks. 

god, it’s better than she remembers. 

His lips press against hers, open and welcoming and it’s hot and slick and messy. Her hand that isn’t gripping his hair, pulling him closer still, she doesn’t want to know where she ends and he begins, that hand is holding his. Fingers interlocked, palms pressed against each other. He groans in her mouth, sounding just as helpless as she feels. She pulls back, the need to breath finally winning out in her struggle to keep him with her aways. She’s touched starved, she thinks that’s the word her mother used, because every nerve in every place his body has been is burning, she feels like a flame that will only remain hot as long as he keeps touching her. His touch never felt this, this consuming, this explosive. He’s clearly feeling the same way because he keeps his eyes on her as he sucks in a breath before pulling her back into his orbit. It’s not like she really ever left but the feel of him, his hands, his lips, it’s tugs her to a place she’s only heard about in stories. 

She pulls him closer, moving them backwards and she whines as her back hits a tree. Now that they are a little bit out of the way, his hand grasps her hair as her hand moves down to rake her nails up and down his back. If she’s felt anything in those five long years, it pales in comparison to this. A rush of arousal warms her body as he lets out a moan, his mouth sucking on her lip. She pulls away, violently, gulping down some much needed air as his head nuzzles her neck. She reaches down, cupping his face in her hands and looking at him. He’s looking at her like he can’t believe she’s real and she just wants, she wants  _ everything _ . She wants all of him but then that she needs to tell him. She can’t let this going any further without saying it. This, this echo of who she used to be, the girl that believed in true love, knows deep in her bones that this,  _ him _ , is it for her. Every other time she’s said I love you it also meant goodbye and saying it to Bellamy can’t mean anything but those words. She looks into his eyes, she never really looked away and takes a deep breath. 

“I love you”

It’s out in the open now, those words, these feelings, she’s laid bare before him. More vulnerable and naked than she’s ever been and he stares at her like she’s just given him the answer to the one question he’s always wanted to ask. 

“I love you too.” He chokes out, tracing her cheek with her fingers as she lets out a sob. Crashing her lips to his, she breaths him like he is the only oxygen she needs as his teeth nibble on her lower lip. She opens her mouth wider, letting his wicked tongue explore her, she’s suddenly very grateful to be leaning against a tree. His onslaught is that much more passionate and consuming now that they are on the same page. He leans back to stare at her, needing air as much as he needs to rememorize her face. 

“I love you.” she whispers, she can’t stop saying it. It’s as though the floodgates to her heart have been thrown open and she’s nearly running on empty. 

She surges upwards to kiss him again, it’s quick this time, wet and messy and there’s a string of spit on her chin as they pull back. 

He gasps out, “I love you.”

And he sounds so devout that all she wants to do it get on her knees and fucking worship him but that, the hours that she can spend learning how to make him shudder with her touch, that can come later. For now, she’s content to whisper “I love you” every time they have to break apart and as much as she wants to shout it to entire world. Just by having her hands on him, his kiss lingering on her lips and his answer sinking into her bones until it settles to be the beat of her heart, she’s telling the heavens that their love was enough to defy the apocalypse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title comes from You Will Find Me by Alex & Sierra


	3. Your Claws in Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke is frustrated and Bellamy helps her relieve it 
> 
> or 
> 
> (the first time Bellamy makes Clarke orgasm)

“ _Beautiful_.” she breathes out, her heart caught in her throat. Bellamy is leaning against the window, jacket tossed in the back seat with all his gorgeous arm muscles on display for her view. She licks her lips as she stares at him, heat warming her body and she reaches over to increase the AC. He shifts in his seat, mumbling a bit and she forces herself to look away. Getting caught staring would upend their unspoken agreement to not do anything to further their connection until after this damn apocalypse is over. They’ve basically proposed to each other anyway. They aren’t idiots, he has to know that at some point she’s going to be ready for him. Hell, she’s ready now but she can’t add more weight to his already burdened shoulders and so she doesn’t kiss him, she doesn’t show him that he owns her heart.

She groans softly, letting her head thunk against the dashboard, her frustration manifesting in ways she’s never dealt with before. It turns out that her deep seated annoyance is loud enough to wake him. He yawns, mouth stretching open and she _aches_. He’s so wonderful around her, so soft and vulnerable and the way the sun lights his face, he looks like he’s bathed in a golden hue, as though the world recognizes that they are unworthy of his goodness.

His hand goes to the gun in his holster and that shoots a thrill through Clarke’s body, that Bellamy’s first instinct when hearing her in pain to go for his weapon. Her first gut reaction is the same, it’s a key reason why Roan using Bellamy as a hostage had scared her shitless, that type of helpless isn’t something she remembers feeling for awhile. She knows that she’s only felt that way about two people, her mother and Bellamy. God, what does that say about her feelings for Bellamy that he is on the same level as her only remaining family. Deep down she knows what it means, she just really _really_ doesn’t want to think about it.

“What’s wrong, Clarke?”

His voice is full of both concern and confusion as he scans the tree line around them. She reaches over to tap the hand that is holding the gun.

“Hey, it was nothing. I’m just frustrated.”

Bellamy lets out a laugh, to anyone else it would sound like a huff but she knows him a bit too well.

“So I am.” He mutters, running a thumb over her hand and she’s struck by how warm his thumb feels on her skin, how the size of his hand dwarfs hers.

He pulls his hand away and looks out the window, a comfortable silence filling the room. He is biting his lip, hands twisting around in his lap and that’s not helping her frustration at all, it just makes it a different kind of frustration. She shifts in her seat, the rush of wetness causing her movements to make a squeaking sound that has her blushing red. She shoots Bellamy a glance and notices that his smirk seems reminiscent of the Bellamy in their early days. It’s a smirk she hadn’t seen since those first days on the ground and to see it directed at her only increases her frustration.

“Want some help relieving your frustration, princess?” Bellamy asks, voice lower than she’s ever heard it yet the teasing light in her eyes offers her a way out. She tries to speak but the only sound that comes out is strangled groan and Bellamy has this cocky half grin on his face in response that causes her to grab the gear shift and pull the Rover in break.

She turns to him, she needs to set some ground rules before they go any further because she’s in love with him. Wow, that’s a revelation to set aside for another day. He seems to notice that her expression has shifted because he reaches over and grabs her hand and looks her in the eye. And the look in his eyes makes her shiver. He knows how to read her so well that it shocks her.

“Hey, Clarke. All I’ll be doing is getting you off,” He pauses, looking at her with a crooked grin that has her biting a lip to supress a moan, “Nothing else. This isn’t the right place for it anyway. I want to take my time.”

He grins at her, pushing open the door and moving to the front of the rover. She follows, looking at him with curiosity before smirking as he taps the hood of the vehicle.

“Ok, Blake. What are you going to do?” She asks, hopping up on the hood so her legs are hanging off the edge.

He smirks, pushing her legs apart slightly and undoing her pants. The mixture of the head from the car and the sudden rush of cold air has her shivering. To prevent her from moving too much, Bellamy lays a hand atop of her thigh and she knows that she’s probably soaking her painties. Because, _damn_. His hand is completely covering her thigh and his touch is super gentle.

“Bellamy.” She whines, drawing out his name and she gasps as his hand teases her folds.

“This making you wet, Griffin?” He asks her, pulling out his finger and sucking her juices off and she squirms around, trying desperately to get a little more friction but she can’t get any because his hand tightens on her thigh, keeping her there.

He steps back a little, and smirks as she moves closer to him. She feels as though she’s completely in his orbit and nothing but death could pull her out.

“Well?” He says, fixing her with a stare that has her biting down her bottom lip.

“Yes, obviously.” She hisses out. She just wants to have a orgasm.

Well that was the answer he was looking for because he looks up at the sky. He notices her abused lip and touches his finger to her mouth.

“Hey, stop that.”

She does but she’s so lost in lust that minute she releases her lip, she sucks his finger into her mouth. He chuckles, uses his other hand to brush her hair back, tugging lightly. Finger still in her mouth, she looks up at him.

“Scoot forward a little, babe.”

She does so, his finger falling from her mouth as she moves because he’s _kneeling_. Bellamy Blake, the guy who refuses to kneel to anyone ever, is on his knees about to make her scream. And even though he’s the one commanding her right now, the rush of power that gives her is unlike anything she’s ever felt power. The sight is enough to make her moan aloud, louder than the quiet whimpers he’s elicited from her so far. He smirks in response. The smug beautiful bastard knows exactly what he is doing. He uses the hand that’s been resting, pressing, on her thigh to keep her upright. His other hand and oh god, she can feel her saliva as he uses his fingers to pull down both her panties and pants. The pants are more like skintight leggings so he curses in frustration as they are only able to be pushed down to just above her knees.

“You’re so wet for me, Clarke.” He groans out, using a finger to probe at her pussy and she whimpers at the intrusion. He uses that same finger and the hand on her thigh to spread her legs a little further apart.

“ _Fuck_. You’re soaked.” He whispers, sounding almost devout in his praise before leaning forward and licking her pussy. She scrambles, reaching one hand into his curls and squeezes while the other tries to find something to hold onto. He experiments, long licks and short ones, all succeeding in reducing her to a trembling mess before him. After what feels like an eternity but what was probably only a few seconds, he eventually finds a rhythm. Clarke knows that if she were more patient, if they were in a bed, she’d let him take his time, bringing her to the brink and then pulling back. But as it is, they need to get the hydrazine to Raven so she grips his curls, pushing him further into her pussy and his tongue seems to elongate inside her, reaching a place that Niylah had reached but Lexa hadn’t.

“ _Bellamy_.” She moans as his tongue flicks her pussy and his thumb presses down on her clit.

“Fuck.  _Bellamy_. Bellamy. _Please_.” She knows she’s begging but fuck she needs justs a little more.

He pulls away and she whimpers at the loss, but the look on his face, covered in her juices and looking up at her like she’s a goddess, causes her to gush even more.

“Harder, Clarke?” He asks, the smirk on her face causing her to tug at his curls and push him back towards her pussy instead of saying something. He scrapes his teeth against her clit and with that she’s coming, gushing in his mouth as he sucks hard.

“God. Bellamy. _Bellamy_.” She groans, shaking as she shatters beneath his tongue. He pulls away, wiping his face with his arm and god, that sends another gush of wetness to her pussy. His bulging muscle glistening with her cum and that’s an image she’s never going to be able to ever get out of her head.

He grins up at her, standing up and she nearly comes again at the sight of his cock, hard in his pants. She wants to reach out and stroke it but they agreed that today was about her. He got hard eating her out and _fuck_ if that doesn’t give her a massive rush. He moves back and she hops down off of the rover.

Wow, she’s never going to be able to look at this car the same way again. She pulls up her underwear and panties and shivers as she walks back to the passenger's seat.

“So I’m driving?” Bellamy asks, smirking at her and she nods, nearly stumbling as she throws herself onto the plush leather, letting out a small sigh.

He slides into the driver’s seat and turns on the ignition and starts driving, hands swiftly moving over the steering wheel. She slumps a little, she’s never going to be able to look at him that same way again that that makes her worry. She knows know that he is burned in her veins and there is no way she’ll ever be able to get him out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> title comes from Slow Burn by Crywolf

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked it  
> work title comes from [this poem](http://fireandsteelofangels.tumblr.com/post/158031064232/i-love-her-because-she-gives-me-hope-on-the)
> 
> Find me on [Tumblr](http://the-ships-to-rule-them-all.tumblr.com)


End file.
